


Just An Accident

by oneshotsbygabby



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Angst, Dead Aiden, Dead Allison Argent, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Porn With Plot, Pregnant Reader, RIP Allison Argent, Reader-Insert, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Underage Drinking, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 23:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16902090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneshotsbygabby/pseuds/oneshotsbygabby
Summary: You're Allison's sister, and after her death, you drown your sorrows in alcohol. When you get drunk with Peter Hale, nothing's gonna happen...right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this fic, the reader is Allison's sister and is grieving for her. This piece takes places in-between seasons 3 and 4.

After Allison and Aiden's deaths, you hit rock bottom. It seemed like the world just stopped spinning with as much as it hurt. And yeah, Aiden had never been a _great_ guy, but towards the end, he was changing, getting better, because he wanted Lydia to see the other side of him. But Allison, your sweet, dear baby sister, was just too innocent, too pure, and didn't deserve what had happened to her.

You hung out at the loft a lot lately, because every time you went home, you saw her. Both Isaac and your dad had gone off to France to grieve, but even going to Paris, which was a city that you _loved_ , would just remind you of her. So, you elected to stay behind.

You saw Allison everywhere. You saw her in the corner of your room, sitting at your desk where you would research the supernatural together; you saw her on your bed where you would sit up all night and talk. You saw the trinkets she had bought when the two of you went to New York a few summers ago and the pictures of her that you took with the pack at Lydia's birthday party just last year.

Derek had told you that you could come to the loft any time you wanted. He even gave you a key, which made you feel special -- nobody else in the pack got a key, except for Scott, and that was because he was the alpha. When you got to the loft today, though, you were surprised to see Peter there.

Peter was a part of the pack, but most of the time, he refused to hang around a bunch of teenagers. He was pretty vocal in his hate for the Argent name, although he was starting to become a friend to you more and more, mostly because the two of you did a lot of research for the pack. You weren't a dead shot, not like Allison was, and you spent more time with your nose in a book. You hadn't been interested in hunting.

But right now, you didn't want to see Peter. Hell, you didn't want to see _anybody_. Derek didn't spend much time at the loft anymore -- not since Boy'd death last year -- so you knew you could go there to be alone. But when you saw that Peter was there, you just wanted him to go away.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him rudely, not really caring _how_ you sounded, if it meant that Peter would just go away. When you had gone home today, you had thought way too much of Allison and just needed to get away. You had practically ran the mile and a half to the loft, not bothering to take your car. The sooner you got there, the better.

"I'm part owner of the loft," Peter said. "I know you know that. The question really is, what are _you_ doing here, sweetheart?"

You roll your eyes at the term of endearment. Peter had spent the last few months after the Nogitsune trying to get under your skin, and the scary party was that he was starting to succeed. Yeah, the two of you had struck up a tentative friendship, but more and more you were finding that you actually _liked_ spending time with the older werewolf. This was pretty concerning, since there had been a point in time you couldn't be alone with him at all without your skin crawling.

You walk the rest of the way into the loft and start digging through Derek's freezer, where you know he keeps a couple bottles of liquor. When you started hanging around more and more after Allison's death, Derek had told you where he kept the good liquor and told you that you could have some any time you wanted, even though you weren't quite drinking age yet. You didn't turn 21 for another few months.

You pulled out a bottle of whiskey and then turned to look at Peter.

"I don't know if I can allow you to drink that," Peter said, looking at you, "since you _are_ underage."

You roll your eyes again. "Right," you say sarcastically, "because _you_ are such an honest, upstanding citizen."

Peter chuckles at your snark. Then he says, "Fair point."

You went over to Derek's couch, uncorking the bottle and taking a swig.

"No glass?" Peter asks, following you over. He sat down on the other end of the couch, leaving a reasonable distance between the two of you.

"Nope," you say, popping the P. "I need to get drunk."

Peter nodded.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you pass Peter the bottle, "You should drink with me. I hate drinking alone." You know damn well that the alcohol isn't going to do anything to Peter, with him being a werewolf and everything, but you don't want to feel so pathetic about drinking alone. He grabs the bottle and takes a swig himself.

"I hope you're not an emotional drunk," Peter says, realizing that he'd never actually seen you drunk before. You just sigh, taking another swig.

There was more silence. You were on the verge of tears, and he knew it, looking at you, placing a hand on your forearm. The touch was actually welcomed, and you let his hand lay there. "It's going to be alright," he says softly, and you wonder where this gentler Peter is coming from. In all the years you've known him, he's never been the comforting one. "I know why you're here, and it's going to get better."

"Really?" you ask, a little rudely. "And tell me, Peter -- _why_ am I here?"

"Because you've lost someone dear to you," he says. "Allison was your sister; she was someone you loved more than anyone. I'm just curious, though -- why didn't you go to Paris with your dad and Isaac?"

You sigh. "Because I used to go with Mom and Allison when they were alive," you answer, taking another drink of the alcohol, and embracing the way it burned on the way down. "I just couldn't go with them. It hurt too much."

"I know how it feels to lose someone close to you like that," Peter says, and he looks into your eyes, his blue ones seeming to sparkle. "I've lost people before."

"I know what my aunt did, Peter," you say to him. "I'm not proud to be related to her, but you can't exactly pick your family."

"Kate was a sociopath," Peter says, "and I'm not blaming you for what she did to us."

"No, but you seemed pretty happy to blame Allison and Dad," you snap, and for a second, Peter looks hurt.

"I shouldn't have," Peter says eventually. "It wasn't their fault, either."

There was more silence as you took another drink of the whiskey. Finally, Peter says, "It hurt a lot after I woke up from the coma and realized that my family was almost all dead. I mourned their deaths, but I knew back then that it was never going to be the same."

"You think I don't know that?!" you snap, loudly this time. "My baby sister is dead, Peter. It feels like a part of me died along with her that day."

After you snapped at him, Peter decided to keep his mouth shut for a little while. A few minutes turned into an hour, and then it turned into two. Peter talked to you every once in a while, but the both of you were pretty content with just the silence. You were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, though, and everything started to feel numb, and it just felt so damn _good_. You scooted over a little bit on the couch, so you were closer to him than you were before, and then said, "I need to forget. Will you help me forget?"

His blue eyes are dark with lust as you move your hand up his thigh. You can tell he wants you; it's in his body language. Right at this moment, you're pretty sure that you can read his mind, and it says that he wants this just as much as you do. You lean over and set the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table and then lean in closer to him. Hesitantly, you press your lips against his.

His hand flies to your hip and he pulls you over his lap as he deepens the kiss. You straddle his hips, and one of his hands is still on your hip while the other one is tracing circles on your lower back, right under the waistband of your jeans.

He tastes too good, a bit like the whiskey you two were drinking, and he smells even better. Without really thinking about it, you grind your hips down on his, rubbing up against him. He feels so good and you can't wait to feel him inside you. Right now, you feel like you need it.

He breaks the kiss briefly to rip your shirt off you, and you're just thankful that he didn't tear it in his haste. His jacket and V-neck go next, and soon the both of you are topless. You run your fingers up and down his chest, and his lips leave yours to venture south, kissing down your jaw and leaving a kiss underneath your ear. He kisses back up to your lips and he takes the moment to dominate the kiss.

Reaching behind you, he unbuckles your bra, and after discarding it on the floor of the loft, he rubs his hand up and down your skin. You're caught up in the moment, grinding your hips against him, rubbing up against him. You break the kiss, standing up to discard your jeans and panties, and he rids himself of the rest of his clothes as well. Once the two of you are naked, you straddle his hips once again.

You grab his cock and stroke it a couple of times, never breaking the kiss. You position it at your entrance and slowly slide down on him, reveling in the way it feels as he fills you. You let out a low moan as you go all the way down, and pause for a moment, giving yourself time to adjust. Peter breaks the kiss to nip and lick at your neck, sucking a bruise into where your neck meets your shoulder. He kisses his way back up to your lips and slides his tongue across your lower lip, silently asking for access. You grant it to him, and he thrusts his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss as you start to move.

He feels so good, and you groan at the way he seems to fill you completely. You break the kiss to try and catch your breath, and he grabs your hips kind of roughly, and you know there will more than likely be bruises there come morning. But you've always been a fan of a few bruises because of sex, and you groan at the feeling.

You start moving a little faster as you tuck your head in the crook of his neck, and you can hear his breath by your ear. It kind of takes you by surprise when he starts talking.

"That's it, baby girl, you feel so good," he says, and you can hear his voice wavering, like he's working extra hard at keeping his wolf under control. "Is it good for you? How does it feel to have me filling you up?"

"So fucking good," you moan. "God, Peter..." your voice trails off, but you let out a low growl as he hits a spot inside of you that turns you on even more.

" _That's_ it," he says, putting one of his hands on your lower back. "Come on, baby girl, tell me how I make you feel."

"So good," you say again. "You fill me up so well and I love it. I love the way your cock feels inside of me."

You can see the lust and hunger in his eyes, and you lean in to kiss him once again. As you lift up and slam back down, you're pretty sure you hear a growl come from him.

He's teetering on the edge of losing control; you can tell this as his eyes flash blue. But you're so close to the edge; you know you're close and whisper, "C'mon, Peter. I'm so fucking close. Please make me come."

Something seems to awaken in him as he grabs your hips and flips you over, you underneath him on the couch. He licks two of his fingers before starting to rub circles on your clit as he starts thrusting in and out more forcefully, and you know you're really close. You're climbing that high, knowing that it's not going to take much to throw you over the edge.

"God, baby girl, you're so fucking tight," he growls, his eyes flashing blue once again. "You feel so good around my cock. C'mon, Y/N, I need you to come for me. I need to feel it."

His talking throws you over the edge and you let out a loud moan as you come around him. He groans low when he feels it, and thrusts in you a couple more times before coming inside of you.

After withdrawing from you, as you lay there, breathless, Peter leans down and gives you another kiss before picking you up, bridal style, and carrying you to the extra bedroom that Derek has in the loft. He lays you down on the bed, getting in beside you, and covers you up with the quilt that's there. As you start to doze, you hear something that sounds suspiciously like _I love you_ , but you chalk it up to being too damn tired.

It's not too long before you're fast asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

When you woke up the next morning, you were warm. The sun was shining in on you through the curtains, but that wasn't where the warmth was coming from. As you turned to try to find the source of the warmth, you came face-to-face with Peter Hale.

That's when last night came flooding back -- everything that was said, everything that was done. You looked under the blanket and noticed that you were no longer naked; you had one of Peter's V-necks on. You weren't sure when he had put that on you, but you were almost thankful that he had.

It felt like the world was spinning. You weren't a lightweight; that much had always been true, and you could definitely hold your liquor, so you never really got very sick after a night of drinking. However, your head hurt like hell and you had the worst case of cotton mouth you'd ever had. You sat up, hoping you didn't wake Peter, and were pretty grateful when you didn't. You ventured out into the main room of the loft, where your clothes were still strewn all over the floor. That's when you noticed Derek, sitting on the couch, drinking a cup of coffee. He looked up at you as you entered the room.

"There you are," Derek said as you went over by him to pick up your clothes. "Have fun last night?"

You couldn't help but notice the smirk that crossed his lips, and you made a face at him.

"It was an accident," you say. "I was drunk, and it shouldn't have happened. I need to get dressed and get out of here, because all it was was a drunken one-night stand."

"Really," Derek says, but it's not a question, it's a statement. "Because I've noticed how Peter's been looking at you for a while. Can you honestly say that you don't feel the same way?"

You take a moment to think about it. Sure, you and Peter have been doing more and more things together, like research and helping out the pack, and you no longer hate him like you once did. You can easily say that what you feel for Peter is a kind of fondness. But do you _like_ him?

You sigh, standing there for a moment after you've retrieved your clothes. "I don't know," you say honestly. "Maybe. I'm not sure."

"Y/N, you really need to think about it," Derek says. "Because I know how much the pack means to you, and I don't want Peter to get the wrong idea about the two of you."

You sigh. "Last night shouldn't have happened," you say again. Derek just nods as you turn around to get dressed in the bathroom.

***

You avoid him. The only people who know what happened between you and Peter that night was Peter, Derek, and yourself. You've managed to hide it from the rest of the pack, and you do what you can to avoid Peter. If you know he's going to be somewhere, you're somewhere else. It's pretty easy, especially with Derek helping you. And the reason that Derek is helping you is because he believes you should take as much time as you need to think about what you want to do about Peter.

Two weeks since sleeping with Peter, you're pretty surprised when there's a knock on your apartment door. Your dad and Isaac are still in Paris, and your dad called the other day to tell you that Isaac was thinking about staying when your father returned home. You couldn't blame him; Isaac had been in love with Allison, and her dying had been really hard for him.

You weren't all that surprised when you saw Peter standing at your door. You knew how he could be and were actually surprised that he hadn't shown up before now.

"Hi," you say to him, feeling kind of awkward.

"Y/N," Peter says. "Can I come in?"

You just nod.

"You've been avoiding me," he said, once inside the apartment. He's watching you carefully with those blue eyes of his. "And I think I know why."

You lick your lips before shaking your head. "I haven't. I've just been really busy."

"You're a crappy liar, especially to a werewolf, Y/N," Peter says. "How about the truth this time?"

You know you're going to cave. You know that you're really close to telling Peter what exactly is on your mind, but part of you doesn't want him to know it. You have no idea how he's going to take the news.

"It's just..." you start, your voice trailing off. "After what happened between the two of us, I just didn't know where to start."

Peter nods. "Okay," he says. "Maybe we should talk about it."

And you're not a hundred percent sure _what_ to say, but you nod and lead him into the living room. The two of you sit down on the couch, and he turns to you. "When's your dad coming back from France?" he asks you.

You shrug, "I don't know. When he feels he's ready, I guess. I mean, I'm an adult and don't need my father here."

Peter nods. Then he says, "Look, I'll understand if what happened was just the alcohol. But I don't think it was. I've been able to to tell that you've been interested for a while."

"But was I?" you ask. "I don't even know if I was or not."

"You smelled interested," Peter said. "Do you want to try this thing? Dating?"

You're kind of surprised, but then say, "Really? I figured you wouldn't be interested."

He looks at you before saying, "Oh, believe me, Y/N. I'm _very_ interested."

"Really?" you ask him. He nods.

"And what happens when my dad comes home from France and finds out? Have you given any merit to the thought that my dad owns several weapons, and _really_ knows how to use them?"

"I can hold my own," Peter says. "Believe me, Y/N, I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't think we could do it. What do you think? You wanna give us a try?"

You lick your lips while studying him. There's so much about Peter that practically screams how bad of an idea this is. This is Peter Hale, the same guy who killed his own niece to get the alpha power, who killed everyone who had a hand in the Hale house fire, including your aunt. This is the guy who is pretty much a sociopath, and you're not sure this is a good idea.

But then again, there's so much you like about Peter. Other than the fact that he actually treats you like an adult, and not really like a hunter, he's fun to talk to and the more time you spend with him, the more in love you fall with him.

Wait... _love_? Did you really just think that to yourself? _Are_ you in love with Peter? If you are, you are so truly fucked.

"Y/N?" Peter says gently, cupping your cheek. As your eyes gaze into his, he says, "Are you okay? I feel like I kind of lost you for a moment."

You nod. "I'm good," you say. "If you want to try this dating thing, I'm game."

You see his face light up as he leans over to kiss you.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on this imagine: Imagine you're Chris' daughter and he finds out you're dating Peter and you're pregnant.

It wasn't long before everyone in the pack found out about you and Peter. Part of you is relieved that nobody says anything bad about it, but the other part is worried. Everyone is accepting this way too easily.

When Derek pulls you aside after a pack meeting one day, though, you start to get nervous. You know something's up, especially when he says, "Hey, Y/N, are you okay? Have you been feeling alright?"

"Why?" you ask him suspiciously. "Do you know something I don't?"

"Uh, it's just that...your scent is off. It's a specific scent that's pretty, uh, noticeable."

"Is that why Scott and Liam were looking at me funny?" you ask. "Because I smell different?"

"Y/N, it's a scent that's pretty recognizable. They don't know what it is because they've never smelled it before, but I have and..." his voice trails off.

Finally, you just snap, "Look, Derek, I've got to go meet Peter, so just spit it out already, will you?"

"You might want to take a test before you take my word for it, Y/N," Derek says, "but you smell pregnant."

Then there's silence. It's so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, and honestly, right now you're pretty thankful that nobody else is in the loft, and you're extra thankful that Peter blew off the pack meeting for whatever the hell he was doing right now. You could swear that the color just left your face, and all of the sudden you feel faint. You've been feeling a bit under the weather lately but figured that it was just because the flu was going around, and you were just a squishy human and got sick.

Finally, you decided to text Peter and tell him that you'll see him later because something else has come up. You decide right then and there that you're going to run to the store and buy a test. You need to know.

"I just thought you'd want to know," Derek says after clearing his throat, "because if I can smell it, I know Peter will be able to."

You give him a hug. It's kind of weird, hugging Derek, because he's never used to it. Even though most werewolves are very tactile creatures, Derek hasn't had that in his life for so long that he seems really awkward whenever anybody shows affection towards him. Then you say, "I'm gonna buy a test, make sure. Thanks for telling me."

"Good luck, Y/N," Derek says to you as you exit the loft. "Let me know what happens."

***

You stare at the pregnancy test in your hand. You just can't believe it. Twenty years old and you're going to be a mother. How are you going to tell Peter? How are you going to tell your _father_?

That's when it hits you. You had gotten the voicemail on your phone last night that your dad would probably be back in Beacon Hills tomorrow or the day after. He was going to find out, sooner or later, and ever since your mother's death, you had an agreement with your dad that there would be no secrets. Would he try to shoot Peter? Would he do something else to him? Since werewolves heal, your dad could torture Peter for days and Peter wouldn't die. What if...

You shake the thoughts out of your head. You're trying really hard not to let your thoughts run away with you. You decide to go to the women's clinic, just to make sure, because you don't want to tell anyone any inaccurate information. So, you drive back to the loft, to try to get Derek to go with you.

You and Derek are pretty good friends. Out of everyone in the pack, the two of you click pretty well. Maybe it's because you both have lost family to this supernatural bullshit, you're not really sure, but you almost seem calmer whenever he's around. And even though Derek's not the alpha anymore, his presence just helps you.

You go and get checked out. You didn't want to jump the gun, just in case it wasn't pregnancy, but after getting checked out, you find out it's worse than that. According to your calculations, you got pregnant the night you had your drunken one-night stand with Peter. That was the night it happened, and how the hell are you going to tell that to your dad?

You go to Peter's apartment afterwards. You drop Derek off at the loft before venturing over there, and he's the one who gives you a hug this time. "It's going to be okay, Y/N," he says to you before you leave. "Everything's going to be alright."

You force a smile. "Thanks, Derek," you say, and then drive off.

You don't bother knocking on Peter's apartment door. You haven't knocked before entering since before the two of you started dating. Peter's sitting in the living room, a well-worn book in his hands. You notice it's _Dracula_ , which he's read about a hundred times but still finds amusement in. Figures.

"Hey, Peter," you say, coming up to him. He grunts in reply.

Gently, you put a hand on his book and lower it to his lap. He glances up at you.

"Yes?" he asks.

You sit beside him. You're nervous and afraid that things are going to go downhill from here, but you need to do this. Peter deserves to know that he's going to have a child. Keeping it from him would just be cruel. Besides, since you're almost three months pregnant, you can't hide it for that much longer.

"Y/N, what's wrong with you?" he asks, putting a bookmark in the book and setting it down on the stand next to the couch. He leans over and tucks his head into the crook of your neck, taking a deep whiff. "And why do you smell afraid?"

"I, uh...I went to the women's clinic today," you say. "Derek pulled me aside after the pack meeting, and I took a test, but didn't want to jump the gun in case it was nothing, so he and I just came back from there."

"You don't smell sick," he says. Maybe Derek was wrong. Maybe Peter can't tell.

"I'm pregnant, Peter. Almost three months. That means that the night I got pregnant was the night I got drunk at the loft. Remember?"

"How could I forget, sweetheart?"

Then a smile spreads across Peter's lips. He leans in and kisses you, soft and slow. His tongue slides across your lower lip, silently asking for access, and even though you know right now isn't the best time for a mini make-out session, you've never been able to really resist him. You wrap your arms around his neck, and he pulls you over his lap so you're straddling his hips. One of his hands is on your hip, and the other is on your lower back, tracing circles right underneath the waistband of your jeans.

This is all so vaguely familiar; it snaps you out of the trance you're in. You break the kiss and say, "I'm serious, Peter. We need to talk about what to do."

"Are you keeping it?" he asks, and for a moment, you're shocked. Getting rid of your baby is something that never even crossed your mind.

"Of course I am," you say. "But...are you all in, Peter? Or are you gonna leave?" _Please don't leave me_ is something that crosses your mind, but you're not going to say it. You don't want to seem too desperate.

"I could never leave you, sweetheart," Peter says.

He wraps his arms around you and tuck your head into the crook of his neck. Right now you don't want to think about anything, but you know that you're going to have to tell your dad eventually. After all, you live with the guy. He'd figure out that something was wrong eventually.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" Peter asks after a few minutes have gone by. You glance at the clock on the wall and realize that it's almost six o'clock. "Can I make you something?"

You sigh before saying, "I guess I could eat."

"Any particular thing you want?" he asks. "I can make pretty much anything."

You decide on a cheeseburger, extra pickles -- you've been craving pickles like crazy lately -- and as you sit down at the dining room table to eat, Peter sits across from you and just watches you.

"What?" you ask him.

He's got a goofy grin on his face, something that just screams that he's lovesick or incredibly happy. He watches you with his amazingly beautiful blue eyes before saying, "I'm just happy. This is really great news."

"Yeah, well, I hate to burst your bubble," you say to him, "but we're gonna have to tell my dad. He's going to try to kill you."

"I can take him," Peter says. "Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I can handle my own."

***

A couple of days pass before you meet your father at the airport. As predicted, Isaac isn't with him, and he tells you that Isaac found a pack in France and decided to stay.

You have a few hours to break the news to your father before Peter comes over tonight. He's coming over at seven for dinner, you already invited him, and you're hoping that all goes well. You've been praying to whatever deity that may be listening that things go well.

"You seem...different," your dad says to you as you drive him back to the apartment. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

"Actually, several things happened," you say. "Scott turned a new beta, two new kids joined the pack, and I started dating Peter Hale." You say the last one fairly fast, hoping that your dad doesn't catch it, but of course he does. He puts a hand on your arm and then says, "Say that last one again?"

You sigh. "Yes, I started seeing Peter Hale a couple of months ago. He's been nothing but good to me and I'm very happy with him."

"You need to break up with him, Y/N. He's nothing but trouble."

"I can't exactly do that," you say to him. You park the car and the two of you walk into your apartment, and he watches you the whole while.

"Why not?" he demands. "Peter Hale is a sociopath."

"I'm in love with him, Dad," you say, hoping that will tide your dad over for a while. However, it doesn't.

"How can you be in love with him?" he asks you. You go over to the couch and flop onto it.

"There's something else I need to tell you, Dad," you say. You've made up your mind; you are gonna tell him. But that's when there's a knock on the front door. You bolt over to it, knowing that it's probably Peter, and don't want your dad to get to him first. When you open the door, you find out you were right.

"Have you told him yet?" Peter asks, totally aware but not caring that your dad is watching the two of you like a hawk. "Does he know?"

"Know what?" Chris asks.

"Uh, well...I'm pregnant, Dad," you say, figuring that if you can just get it out quickly, maybe the explosion won't happen. Once again, you're wrong.

"Pregnant? Y/N, I thought I raised you better than that! I mean, pregnant by a werewolf?"

"Are we forgetting that Allison was in love with not one, but two werewolves? And you never said shit to her!" Your temper is starting to get the better of you, even though you don't mean it to.

"That was different," he says. That's when you lost it.

"Why?" you ask him. "Because she's dead now? Is that why? Because your pride and joy is no longer here?" That was something that you've never voiced before. For a long time, you felt second best to Allison because she was the youngest, and always felt that Chris loved her more than you. She did everything right and was totally the golden child. But Chris looks like he's just been slapped in the face.

"That's not why, Y/N," Chris says. He sighs before watching you. "You sure you're pregnant?"

You nod. "I found out yesterday."

"And you, Hale," Chris says, eyeing Peter. "What are you plans for this? Are you all in?"

Peter nods, "Yes, I am. I figured you'd have more to say on the subject, though."

"I don't like it," Chris says. "In fact, I hate it. And not just because you're a werewolf. It's because you're _you_." He watches you carefully before saying, "It just had to be him, didn't it, Y/N?"

"I love him," you say softly.

"And what about you, Hale?" Chris asked him. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know if it's love, Argent," Peter says, and part of you really hates the fact that you told your dad you loved Peter before even being able to tell Peter first, "but I am very fond of your daughter."

"I'll be watching you, Hale," your dad says, watching the two of you closely, "but for what it's worth, Y/N, I'm always going to be there for you. I love you."

And that's when you knew that everything was going to be alright.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on this imagine: Imagine lying on your back and discussing baby names with Peter, while he nuzzles your belly.

It seemed like your pregnancy was going so slowly. It was five months later, and at eight months pregnant, it felt like this kid was never going to make an appearance.

Peter had been nothing but helpful and protective all throughout the pregnancy. At first, you weren't sure how he was going to act, considering it was _Peter_ , but he came over and stayed with you, or you went over to his apartment and stayed there. You were never alone overnight; he was always there, no matter where the two of you slept.

"I'm just saying, Y/N," Peter was saying that afternoon as you lounged in bed, your back up against the headboard, "you should move in. It'd be easier than the two of us living separately. Besides, it'd be nice to have the privacy. Y'know, be one little family."

You had seriously thought about it, but you didn't want to just invite yourself over to live with him. You had been waiting for an invitation. But now that you had it, you felt a little weird about it.

"You sure?" You ask him. "I mean, won't it be weird?"

He laughs at that. "Seriously, Y/N?" he asks you. "We're already together, we're expecting a child together. It only makes sense that this is what should happen next."

You nod. He's right; it _does_ make sense.

Ever since getting pregnant, you and the pack have seen a totally different side of Peter. Derek hadn't seemed surprised, but then again, he had known Peter his whole life. Derek had come up to you a few weeks ago, however, and told you that he was starting to see the uncle that Peter had been before the fire. The uncle that had been Derek's best friend.

"Okay," you say, conceding. "I'm in."

"Great," he says. He scoots up the bed a bit, just so he can put his arms around you and starts nuzzling your growing belly. Ever since you started showing, he's had a habit of nuzzling your belly or pressing his ear to it so he can hear the baby's heartbeat.

"Have you thought of baby names, sweetheart?" Peter asks you, still nuzzling your belly. "I know we haven't talked about it."

Even when you found out that you were pregnant for a girl, you hadn't really thought about what you wanted to name your unborn daughter. You're sure that Peter would have some ideas, though, so you say, "Do you have any ideas?"

He sighs softly before saying, "I'm not sure. I thought we could discuss them and maybe come to some kind of an agreement."

You shrug. "I kind of like Abbigail," you say. "What do you think? We could call her Abbey."

"Abbigail Hale?" He asks with a tone in his voice. "Don't you think that's kind of weird? I mean, it rhymes."

"Not if we call her Abbey," you say.

He leans up a little to look you in the eye, "C'mon, Y/N, I don't want to name my daughter something she might get made fun of."

"All right," you say. "Do you have any good ideas?"

"What about a flower name? Like Daffodil or Rose or something?"

" _Daffodil_?" you ask. "And you don't want her to get made fun of."

Peter just shrugs and goes back to nuzzling your belly.

The two of you continue talking names for the next hour, each of you vetoing what the other one says. Peter wants a nature name, like River or Summer, which you have no problem with, but none of them really strike an accord with you.

"Those names aren't too bad," you say, "but none of them are really standing out for me. I want her to have a nice, normal name."

Peter shrugs again.

The two of you end up talking about baby names for two more hours, and finally, you're getting sick of the subject. Peter presses his ear to your stomach to hear the baby's heartbeat, and you look down at him, "What do you think about something simple? I kinda like Kimberly. We could name her Kimberly Anne."

Peter looks thoughtful for a few moments before saying, "Kimberly Anne Hale. I like it."

Glad that the discussion is over, you look at Peter and say, "Good. Now, I'm hungry. Let's find something to eat."

***

The two of you have dinner at your dad's house the next day, and you decide it's then that you're going to tell him about moving into Peter's apartment. Your dad can't cook to save his life, so it doesn't surprise you at all when you first arrive at the apartment and he's unpacking Chinese food out of a paper bag.

"I hope you got me some chicken and broccoli," you say to your dad in lieu of a greeting. "Kimmy really wants some."

"Kimmy?" your dad asks.

"We decided on a name for our daughter," Peter says, coming in after you. He puts an arm around your waist and says, "We're naming her Kimberly. Kimberly Anne Hale."

"That's a good name," Chris says after a moment. "I like it." Then he looks at you. "And yes, I got some chicken and broccoli. Even before you were pregnant, you loved the stuff, so I made sure I got a lot."

You nod and then your dad wraps you up in a hug. You love the hugs that your dad seems to give you; they make you feel warm and loved. When your dad has you in his arms, you feel safe and it makes you feel like you're a little kid once again, your dad comforting you after you wake up from a nightmare.

The three of you sit down to eat and that's when Peter nudges you with his elbow. Your dad sees it and says, "What's up?"

"Peter and I discussed it last night," you said to him, watching him closely. "I'm moving into his apartment."

"It isn't like you're not there quite a bit as it is," Chris says, taking a bite of his own vegetable lo mein. "I mean, you're over there more than you are here. I figured it was only a matter of time."

You nod. "Yeah, I know," you say, "but I just wanted to make sure you knew. I love Peter and he takes good care of me, so you don't have to worry."

"Y/N," Chris says, "I'm always going to worry about you; you're my kid. You'll understand once Kimmy comes how much worrying about your child is a parent thing."

The dinner passes with good conversation and great food. Even though Peter and your dad don't get along, they're trying, just for you, and it makes you happy that they're putting in the effort.

After dinner, you decide to start boxing up a few things to take over to Peter's apartment. It feels weird to think of that apartment as home, but you realize that you're going to need to.

After you hug Chris goodbye later that night, he looks at you. "I'm proud of you, Y/N," he says. "I know that getting pregnant was an accident, but Peter really looks out for you and I can tell that you love him. I want nothing but the best for you, and you're headed in the right direction."

You just beam at him.


End file.
